


for I emerged triumphant

by ephemeralblossom



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Fluff, ToT: Extra Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 04:18:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8431564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralblossom/pseuds/ephemeralblossom
Summary: “Did you and Éomer play drinking games again?” Faramir asked, sleepily.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maitimiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maitimiel/gifts).



Faramir had been sleeping for some hours when his lady wife climbed into his bed – narrowly missing his side with her knee – and began pressing kisses to his chin.

Despite his disordered sleep, he was not discomfited, for who could be discomfited by the White Lady of Ithilien in their bed?

“Did you and Éomer play drinking games again?” he asked, sleepily.

His lady wife considered this question for a moment. “Mayhap we did,” she said, with a smile in her voice that was visible through the darkness.

“If he is under the table, Elboron will climb on him in the morning,” Faramir warned. 

Their son was four, and believed that everything should be climbed. At first they had attempted to dissuade him; now they simply kept a wary eye on him. Better a climbing Elboron they could see, than a suspiciously absent Elboron they could not. 

“He is indeed under the table,” Éowyn said, “for I emerged triumphant.”

“I never doubted you for a moment,” Faramir said, and drew her down to his side.

She snuggled closer. “Indeed, when I taught him the Hobbit game, he did laugh; but he no longer laughed when I proved the more skilled.”

The Hobbit game – involving beer, beer mugs, and little wooden balls – had too much alcohol for Faramir’s liking. He did not abstain from alcohol entirely, but he preferred games that were more sedate, less uproarious.

But playing it with Arwen always made Éowyn laugh, and now tonight she had taught it to Éomer, and had laughed again. There were few things in his life that Faramir, son of Denethor, loved more than to hear his lady wife laugh. With her laugh, all the shadows of the world fled before her, and Faramir was truly content.

“I believe he will teach it to the Rohirrim,” Éowyn said, thoughtfully, “and the next time he comes to us, I will not defeat him so easily.”

“You will rise to the challenge, I am sure,” Faramir soothed, already feeling himself slipping back into sleep. Éowyn was warm in the crook of his arm, her cheek pressed against his chest. All was well with the world.

Éowyn chortled under her breath, a surprisingly evil sound, and he startled awake again.

“I thought,” Éowyn said, her voice deceptively sweet, “that perhaps the next time Éomer comes, we should invite Merry and Pippin as well. They have not been to Gondor these three years, and I know that we all wish to see them.”

“You wish for them to embarrass Éomer at the drinking game,” Faramir said, for he was not so asleep as to not see the thrust of this strategy. 

“Mayhap that too,” Éowyn said, and kissed him.

Receiving the devoted and passionate kisses of his wife, Faramir decided that perhaps he was not so sleepy after all.

***


End file.
